


Blaze of Memory

by plumeriafairy14



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blaytant, Blaytz x Galra Servant, Eventual Smut, I DID THE THING TUMBLR PEOPLE, I LOVE BLAYTZ SO MUCH OMG, I named him Marmora like the HCs suggested, M/M, OG paladins, Origin Story, Romance, canon and dead, hahahaha, it's got OCs since we're not given a lot of past chars, sobs, they're canon fite me, this can only end one way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumeriafairy14/pseuds/plumeriafairy14
Summary: Marmora is a docile servant in the royal palace of emperor Zarkon during the day. At night, he blends himself in the shadows as a faceless warrior who fights for the equality of the oppressed members of the servant caste. It was a repetitive cycle in Marmora's life until fate becomes interesting and he falls in love with a Nalquodian warlord who will become the Blue Paladin.This is the tale of war, love, revolution, and the descent into madness of emperor Zarkon which eventually led to the destruction of Daibazaal, told from the eyes of a humble servant who founded the longest standing Galra resistance that fights to this day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **I. DID. THE. THING.**
> 
> This is a self indulgent thing because I ship them so hard and all the HCs on tumblr just inspired me. I hope you enjoy! Lemme know what you think of my take for this ship! I'll update as soon as I get the time since I have A LOT on my plate right now! :D
> 
> PS: Sorry for the errors, I ended up posting this at 1 AM. English isn't my first language either so there's bound to be grammatical errors.

 

Chapter 1

It began when their emperor, Zarkon, formed alliances with four other planets to protect their common interest of spreading peace and order in their corner of the galaxy. Great stories of their adventures spread like wildfire among the citizens of Daibazaal and were immortalized as bed time stories for children while the more daring ones were told on the dinner table or over a game of dice and cards.

The Galra took pride in their planet and their culture. However, no society was perfect; there are always the aspects that are flawed and in terms of the Galra, it was the segregation between social classes. There was a line drawn between who and who may not associate with the other. It was an unspoken rule amongst their people to stay within their social caste and each child was taught how to act in the presence of those who are not they are not at par with in terms of societal standing. Some classes were more privileged than the others in the Galra society with the royal family, nobles, and wealthy merchants lounging at the top of the caste. Regular citizens and ranked officers settled in the middle while servants and lowly foot soldiers made up the third class.

Marmora was born in that caste. He grew up in the harsh world of serving the higher ups in society. He was trained to bow and how to properly pour tea the moment he learned how to walk. Marmora learned to keep his thoughts to himself and only let the words out when he is back in the servant barracks where he lived with his older brother, Clyus, who was a foot soldier and his younger sister, Azrael, who served with Marmora in the royal palace. Their parents had both passed on long ago.

Now, Marmora stood at the door way of the great dining hall with a tray and a goblet of the finest gryvum plum wine in emperor Zarkon’s cellar. Azrael had sent him off to the basement to retrieve the bottle of gryvum because she was too busy swirling merengue cream on the pastries that she baked.

 _“Could you bring it out there as well, Marmora?”_ Azrael had asked without glancing from her work and her tone sounded distant while she tried to concentrate. “ _I have to finish these. The queen of Altea is waiting for them.”_

Marmora glanced over his shoulder when he heard the booming laughter of their emperor and the guests of honor in his hall; his comrade-in-arms and friends. “Who requested it?” he asked.

“The Nalquodian war lord.”

Keeping his poise and his silence, Marmora put on his humblest smile and made his way to the long banquet table where the emperor sat with his guests. He approached the Nalquodian who sat across Zarkon and wordlessly offered the tray to him.

Their eyes met and Marmora struggled to keep the humble smile up as the Nalquodian’s gaze lingered with his.

“Mhm,” the warlord hummed when he took the goblet from the tray. The smirk he wore was flirtatious and Marmora felt a blush creep to his cheeks. He only prayed to the gods that no one noticed. “Pull up a bench and join the feast!”

Marmora was about to open his mouth to decline politely when Daibazaal’s emperor cleared his throat and the Nalquodian clearly appeared like he was caught red handed.

“You should not fraternize with the servants.” Zarkon said in such a matter that he was reprimanding the other man. “It erodes discipline.”

Marmora blocked most of the conversation after that along with the thoughts of infatuation that fluttered within him. King Alfor of Altea said something that Marmora didn’t quite catch to which the other guest, Gyrgan was his name, said a witty come back that made the whole hall echo with gleeful laughter. Marmora slowly backed away just as the queen and tactician from the Dalterion Belt, Trigel,  rose from her seat to propose a toast.

But before Marmora could disappear back into the kitchen, there was a bright flash of light that streaked the magenta sky. The ground beneath their feet shook as the object crashed and Marmora dropped the tray he was carrying while he lost his own balance and fell on his ass on the floor. Once the earthquake subsided, the sound of the chairs being pushed grated against the marble floor and footsteps hastily ran past him while Zarkon yelled orders to the sentry droids and foot soldiers to gather the troops.

But amidst the chaos, only one of them stopped to help Marmora up.

“Are you alright?”

Marmora was startled when the tray he was reaching for was placed into his hands. When he looked up, the Nalquodian warlord was crouched beside him. He was close… a little too close as he peered into Marmora with a thoughtful smile.

“Yes, sir.” His own voice was raspy from disuse. “Thank you for your concern.” After Marmora told the other that he was fine, the familiar sly smirk returned. The warlord opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted when king Alfor hollered from the other end of the hall.

“Balytz!” he called. “Are you coming?”

Ah, so his name is Blaytz.

“Yeah, I am!” Blaytz replied, his voice rising in volume so that the Altean king would be able to hear. “I’ll catch up!” he turned back to Marmora, who stared at him, clearly still startled not just by the possibility of intruders in Daibazaal, but by the small act of compassion. No one cared about the servants. Those who did, were rare if not from the same caste.

“We’ll go look at whatever that thing is.” Blaytz pulled Marmora up, his grip firm around the other’s hand. “Get to safety just in case.” Blaytz flashed him one last grin. “Oh, that wine was lovely, by the way. Maybe we can have a drink sometime?”

A wink and then, he was gone.

~

“What was that?” Marmora’s sister and the youngest among his family’s offspring, asked as she emerged from a servant door tucked away at the corner of the kitchen. “An attack?”

“No.” Marmora shook his head. He placed the tray down on the long island counter in the middle of the kitchen and dragged back a stool to sit. “I passed Clyus on the hall. He was armed. He said that it was a comet of some kind but not an attack.”

“Interesting.” Azrael muttered, her crimson irises dark with apprehension when Marmora spoke of their elder brother. “So does that mean that with this occurrence, everyone will be occupied and restless tonight?”

Marmora fell silent and thoughtfully traced his fingers on the deep scars on the wood of the chopping board. The surface was damp from the Balmeran cave worms that were chopped there earlier and the tip of his finger slid over the slimy traces of entrails. Marmora knew that he should be listening to his headstrong little sister but his mind was wandering off to the handsome face adored by those half lidded cobalt blue eyes and that charming grin…

“Marmora!”

“Yes?” His head snapped up in attention and he looked at his sister. “Could you repeat that?”

Azrael sighed and tossed the towel in one of the wash sinks designed with a drying rack so that the fruits and vegetables placed there didn’t dent in anyway. “I said,” she repeated. “I think this is the perfect opportunity for a night run.”

At the sound of ‘night run’, Marmora’s full attention fell on Azrael.

“There we go.” The female Galra smirked and the red stones of her stud earrings caught he light when she tilted her head to regard her older brother. “That got your attention, didn’t it? You and you fluttering mind. You’ve been spacing out like a half asleep floofenmurgel.”

“Of course it did.” Marmora replied and he sat straight. “What do we need to do?”

Azrael looked around the spacious kitchen to make sure that they were alone. Then, she reached into the back pocket of her pants and pulled out a thin metal square device. She pressed a button and a holographic screen fired up from within that flashed details of the mission.

“A servant is being mistreated in the Sveelan household at the upper district.” Azrael started to explain the details and Marmora quietly studied the image of a female Galra on the screen. There was sadness in her eyes as she stared out of the holographic photo along with the information that flashed on the side of the screen.

“The sources are reliable?” Marmora asked quietly. Among his siblings, he had always been the soft spoken one. Clyus was the brute muscle and deciding head of their little family while Azrael was the wild loose bullet who liked to run her mouth. Marmora, on the other hand, was the quiet scholar who was the brains in the family. He was fond of keeping records and journals of the events in his lifetime. On nights when he couldn’t sleep, he would sneak out and blend into the shadows of the sleepy palace halls to go to the grand library to read. His mother, may the constellations rest her soul, had known from the moment when her second son was born, that his mind would be as bright as the swirling nebulas.

That was the reason she named him, Marmora, which meant ‘memory’ in old Galran.

The secret resistance that he played a part in was created to help the oppressed and maltreated members of the lowest caste. In due time, it will ignite the people to revolt if the caste isn’t abolished. He and his siblings were also vital assets to the resistance for each possessed a unique quality that had been aiding the resistance for many months now.

“Yes, it is reliable.” Azrael replied with a single nod. “Clyus handed this to me early this morning before he left for his rounds. You had already gone off to prepare the banquet hall for the emperor’s guests.” Her bright crimson eyes studied Marmora with anticipation. “With the occurrence of the comet crashing outside, brother won’t be able to join us in this rescue mission. We have to get her out tonight, Marmora, who knows what her cruel masters would do to her tomorrow.” Her voice hardened on the edges. “Whisk her away into the dead of the night and lay waste to the household as a warning to other cruel noble families that the resistance is not a force to be reckoned with!”

“Calm down, Azrael.” Marmora reached to gently cup his sister’s cheek. The younger woman rebelliously rolled her eyes at him but nonetheless, clamped her mouth shut along with her temper. Marmora pulled back and scrolled through the holographic screen. “Clyus is right; we will make our move tonight. With the comet gathering the attention of the whole kingdom, attention will be diverted there.”

His fingers danced over the floorplan of the house hold and his dark crimson eyes studied it with cool, calculated intelligence. The walls were high but unlike Clyus, Marmora and Azrael were built more sleekly. They would be able to scale the mansion and get the girl out without a fuss if all goes well. “Standard procedure; we go in, neutralize any guards we see, infiltrate the household, and get the servant.”

“Aw, we won’t get to kill anyone?” Azrael pouted but her eyes glittered with mischief.

“No, Azrael.” Marmora shook his head and his tone was strict. “Bear our creed in your mind at all times; we do not draw blood unless we are defending ourselves or someone else.”

“Pft, I know, Marmora, sheesh.” The younger Galra snorted. “I’m just messing with you; of course I won’t slit anyone’s throat if I don’t need to.”

Marmora wordlessly turned off the hologram screen and handed back the device to Azrael. He got up and started to clear away that side of the island counter along with the dirty chopping board.

“Soooo,” Azrael suddenly interrupted with a playful sing-song voice. “What took you so long at the banquet hall? All you had to do was hand over the wine goblet.”

“The comet hit and the whole room fell into panic.” Marmora kept his voice soft and even but Azrael’s question triggered the memories from earlier once again.

“Then why were you blushing?”

“Pardon me?” Marmora put down the chopping board that he was scrubbing under a steady stream of water and looked over his shoulder at her.

“When you were spacing out.” Azrael pointed out with a shit eating smirk while she leaned over the counter, her fingers laced underneath her chin where it rested. “Your cheeks were the color of Altean juniberries. Did something happen? Did my dear, lovely big brother meet someone his amazing little sister should know about?”

“Get your head out of the clouds, Azrael!” Marmora chucked a towel at his sister who caught it with a giggle. “I suggest you make yourself busy with something.”

“Stuck-up!” Azrael stuck out her tongue at him before she disappeared behind the hidden servant door to carry on with her chores for the day. Marmora returned to his task and resumed scrubbing the chopping board. He wasn’t a stuck-up, it just so happened that the Nalquodian warlord was flirtatious and handsome.

It was senseless infatuation and it will be gone as soon as Blaytz was out of Marmora’s sight.  

~

In the dead of the night, two figures slipped through the darkness as if they are shadows themselves. They were garbed in black suits that were easy to move in and the hood over their heads cast shadows overs their masked faces that were accented by deep purple designs that glowed. They skillfully scaled the high walls of the mansion and stealthily sneaked up behind the guards that were keeping watch before the stabbed a pressure injector to the side of their necks. The guards’ eyes rolled to the back of their heads before they collapsed on the ground, asleep.

One of the figures signaled for the other to hack the security code and unlock the back door. After the code was hacked by a circuit jammer, the door clicked from the inside and the two figures slipped inside quietly. The night was calm and the mansion remained undisturbed as the two figures emerged from the inside with a young Galran servant in tow. The girl wore a cloak to conceal her face and she had a limp on her right foot. She clung onto one of her saviors as they made their way out of the backyard. After another circuit jammer unlocked a gate, they slipped out into the empty street outside.

“Thank you.” The girl whispered and her eyes wide with a light of hope.

“We are only doing our duty.” One of the figures replied but their real voice was distorted to sound deeper by the mask they wore. “We will bring you to a sanctuary where it is safe. You can heal there until you are ready venture out once again.”

The young woman nodded. “Who do you work for, though?”

“We serve the people oppressed by the caste system. We fight for the equality of all Galra.” It was the other figure who replied this time. They slipped into an alleyway where they could avoid the main street where someone could spot them. Even though most of the guards are stationed around the perimeter of the comet’s crash point, they couldn’t risk being seen.

“What do we have here? Thieves?”

Marmora felt a chill run up his spine at the sound of the familiar voice. Beside him, Azrael felt his distress but nonetheless, she kept a protective hold on the girl. Blaytz stood on the mouth of the mouth along with the Dalterion queen. Marmora thought of at least ten blue streaked curses in different languages in his mind; why in the blazes are these two wandering the streets this late in the night?

“More like an abduction.” Trigel scowled deeply at them and pulled out a short staff that elongated into an elegant white spear upon her will. “Let the girl go, you heathens!”

Beside him, Blaytz reached behind him and drew out twin curved swords from the sheaths strapped in on his back. Marmora motioned for his sister to go on ahead without him but he earned a hiss from the other;

“Are you insane? You can’t fight the both of them at the same time!”

“I don’t have to,” Marmora whispered back. “I’ll merely throw them off our trail. The girl’s safety is our priority; take her away from here and make sure that you aren’t followed.”

“Hey, didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to whisper in front other people? Just what do you think you’re doing?” Blaytz asked but the grin he wore was tight but his eyes were wary. Gone was the man who flirted with Marmora earlier that day and the one that stood before him was the Nalquodian warlord. To answer their question would then require them to explain their involvement in the resistance and these people were allied with Zarkon. If the emperor found out about the brewing resistance before it was fully ripe for a revolution, who knows what those who owned servants in their households would do to silence the third class.

They couldn’t risk it.

Marmora reached behind him and drew out his own weapon; a short, black hooked blade made from luxite.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Blaytz cooed, teasing but the look in his eyes wasn’t friendly.

“Caution, Blaytz.” Trigel warned her friend. “We don’t know who or what they are.”

Suddenly, the black blade elongated in a flash of violet neon light. It gleamed dangerously underneath the moonlight. Beside him, Azrael did the same and drew out her blade from the sheath on her waist and it elongated to its true form.

“Ohh, nice!” Blaytz whistled but neither Marmora nor Azrael moved. It was fortunate that they were still masked because if Blaytz recognized them and broke his silence it was either jail or execution for the both of them. And judging by how it is, Blaytz was not a bit silent.

“Please stop this!” The servant girl with Azrael cried out. “They saved me from my cruel masters!”

“GO!”

“Wait, what did you say?!” Trigel’s eyes widened but it was too late. When the other bolted off with the girl, Marmora made the first move and Blaytz was quick to counter. For someone with his bulky physique, he moved pretty fast. Their blades clashed between them and sparks flew. Marmora knew that he had to make this quick because the noise of parrying blades will surely wake the neighboring houses and if there was something the Galra enjoyed, it was combat.

“Lemme tell ‘ya,” Blaytz grinned. “you’re good. But do we really have to fight? She said you helped her!”

Marmora didn’t say anything and was barely able to dodge one of the swords that Blaytz wielded when Trigel ran past them to go after Azrael. Thinking fast, Marmora reached into his belt and threw a flat disk at Trigel’s direction before it expanded into two spinning wire chords that latched onto the queen’s legs and wrapped around to constrict them. Trigel gave a startled cry when she fell flat on her face and rolled a bit further from the momentum of her run. That was enough to distract Blaytz.

“Trigel, are you alr—WHOAH!” There was a loud clang when Marmora brought down his blade and swiped it upwards. He used the hook at the base of his weapon to yank away one of Blaytz’s swords and it spun to the other direction, lodging into an old barrel by the alley wall. But when Marmora moved back in an attempt to escape, Blaytz flipped his remaining sword and slammed the pommel against Marmora’s mask.

It shattered and one of the shrapnel cut through Marmora’s cheek, making dark blood trickle.

Their eyes met.

“You…?” Blaytz breathed in disbelief. Marmora stared at him, horrified, but then he realized that Trigel had freed herself from the binds around her legs. Marmora quickly looked away before the Dalterionian saw his face. He turned and prepared to flee but Blaytz caught him by the wrist. When Marmora looked up, Blaytz’s expression was just as shocked as his was. But he mouthed silently so that Trigel didn’t hear;

“You helped that girl so I will not breath a word about you; a favor for a good deed.” He said. Marmora just nodded once and Blaytz released his hold on his wrist. But then he saw that Trigel was already on her feet as she ground the butt of her staff against the ground and Marmora pulled out a sphere like device from one of the packs that hung around his waist before he threw it on the ground. When it hit, thick smoke exploded out and obscured their vision.

“What in the name of---!” Trigel cried out, startled as she coughed.

“Hey!” Blaytz fanned away the smoke while he coughed as well. When it cleared away, the alleyway was empty except for the two of them.

“First the comet, now this.” Trigel coughed the remaining smoke that she inhaled. “Looks like Zarkon’s empire is flawed, yes? Sounds like he has societal issues.”

“All empires are flawed. This is an internal issue, Trigel.” Blaytz said. “The last time I checked, internal affairs are off limits.”

“True.” Trigel agreed and the white spear in her hand shifted to a short plain baton which she sheathed on the holster around her waist. “We best stay out of this. That comet is more of our concern so we should stand guard for a few more quintants until Alfor returns from Altea with a team of alchemists.” She sighed. “Come, let us return to the palace. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah.” Blaytz walked over to where his other sword was lodged into the wooden barrel by the alley wall. He studied the sharp edge and thought back to the black blade it clashed with moments ago; its wielder just drew in Baytz’s interest even more. “Hey, you know what?”

“What is it, Blaytz?” the other replied, confused.

“I can’t wait for breakfast tomorrow morning.” Blaytz smirked.

~

Panting, Marmora pressed his back against a damp wall in another alley where he escaped to. He brought his hand to his face and wiped away the blood with the back of his sleeve. He stared at the night sky that was glazed with stars and magenta clouds. He was exhausted; he much rather be a scholar than a fighter but he must do what he must do.

Then, he stilled when he remembered that he was on breakfast duty for the royal guests tomorrow morning. He groaned and bumped the back of his head once gently against the wall.

“Oh, great.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Books tell countless stories, philosophies, instructions, and many more. However, the books in the royal library of emperor Zarkon witnessed something else;
> 
> The budding of a friendship that would soon bloom into something more beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this seem to have gained some fans! Thank you very much! And I'd like to commend the talented Irene Draws for their fan art of [Azrael](http://irene-draws.tumblr.com/post/164651296504/i-really-really-loved-blaze-of-memory-by)!! Thank you very much! 
> 
> This chapter killed me with fluff. I suffocated falfjadfj So I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Please let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 2

“I take it that it went well, brother?” Clyus was a big man; stern yellow eyes with deep burgundy irises that are so dark that they appeared black. The sun hadn’t broken through the purple sky with its dawn yet but Marmora was already putting away their plates into the sink. He left another plate of food on the table for Azrael so she could have some breakfast later that morning when she gets up for her chores.

“It did.” Marmora replied while he placed the two plates in a drier underneath the sink. “Azrael and I got the girl. There are no casualties.”

“Until those paladins got in the way.” Clyus’s tone was inquisitive and Marmora fought the urge to touch the raw, healing cut on his cheek. It was barely visible now but it still stung. “Azrael told me last night. You’ve already gone to bed.”

“I wasn’t asleep, I was probably reading.” Marmora tried to sound cool about it. There was no reason for him to lose his composure but ever since he woke up, he had been on the edge because of breakfast duty. “You could’ve asked me, Clyus. Azrael’s stories tend to turn extreme.”

“Don’t worry.” Clyus chuckled. “She didn’t go overboard. However, I’m curious.” He motioned at the patch of gauze that was taped on Marmora’s cheek. “What happened to your face?”

Lazy cobalt eyes filled with concern flashed in Marmora’s sight as the memory rolled through his mind. It was another reason why he’s anxious; Blaytz saw his face. However, the Nalquodian warlord promised that he will not breathe a word about his identity. Marmora took it with a grain of salt; these are strangers on their planet and they’re allies with the emperor. He barely got a wink of sleep because he was expecting soldiers to break down their door to arrest him.

But none came. Maybe Blaytz did keep his word.

“Ah, I… It got caught on a broken piece of wood protruding from an old plank.” Marmora lied. If Clyus found out that Baytz knew, he’ll be furious. Besides, the Nalquodian hasn’t displayed any signs that he’s a threat so there was no reason for Marmora to tell the truth just yet. It might be a foolish thing to do in the long run, but something told him to keep hushed and project the impression that he was able to shake off the paladins off their trail last night. “You know how clumsy my footing is, brother.”

“Indeed, you should work on it.” Clyus clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in a tsk of disappointment. “We can’t have you tripping in a fight.”

“I’m better off as a scholar.” Marmora said with a soft smile. “Keeping archives and learning hold my interest more.” Although this was the case, Marmora was in no way helpless in fight. They all made sure that they were familiar with the feel of a weapon in their hands.

“That can still be useful for the uprising; we still need brains like you for operations.” Clyus finally stood up and picked up his helmet that rested on Azrael’s empty chair. “But I still strongly suggest that you heavily involve yourself with the blade rather than your books.”

“What’s wrong with books?” Marmora frowned. He placed the last plate in the drying rack and wiped his hands on his waist apron. “Books are wonderful, Clyus. They’re gateways to other planets and cultures!”

“They are.” Clyus’s reply was solid as stone. “But the true way of the Galra is combat. Take care today, brother.”

Marmora watched as Clyus put on his helmet on top of his bony head and slipped on several hidden throwing blades into carefully hidden slots in his armor. A regular foot soldier only carried a particle rifle or a standard issued sword while servants carried none at all. But Marmora and his siblings led a double life.

“You as well, brother.” Marmora piped in softly and with a final nod, the eldest closed the door of their small home.

Marmora sighed when he saw that the first light of the sun had started to break through the horizon of their rocky planet. Untying his apron, he hung the fabric on a hook and carefully belted his dormant luxite dagger on the small of his back, carefully hidden by his butler clothes.

~

Breakfast was lively with the paladin’s voices echoing through high walls. Their topic mostly consisted about the rift that appeared underneath the comet after it was removed. Everyone was there except for king Alfor who has yet to return from Altea with his team of alchemists to investigate the mysterious fissure.

Marmora stood quietly on the corner. His hands were loosely clasped in front of him and he kept his gaze down but his ears were open to the conversation. One of the perks of being a palace servant is that he directly mingled with the inner circle. Marmora can acquire information from the direct source while Azrael can gather information from the network of servants within the palace.

However, while Marmora stood on the corner with two other servants, he felt warmth crawl under his skin because he could feel _his_ eyes on him. He heard Blaytz laugh and converse with the other leaders but whenever he fell quiet, Marmora knew that he was the subject of the warlord’s interest.

“Zarkon,” it was Trigel who spoke this time. “if I may ask, how is your city doing these past deca-pheobs?”

“Quite well, dear friend.” Zarkon replied before he took a hearty drink of his wine. “The economy is well and we are at peace. Why do you ask?”

“In good hopes for the answer you just gave, Zarkon.” Trigel’s reply was a smooth recovery but Marmora is raised serving the inner court that he could tell real intonation and their meanings well; Trigel did not believe Zarkon.

“Oh, that reminds me.” It was the big man, Gyrgan, who spoke this time. “I took a morning stroll to see the breakfast goods being sold at the market.” He said. Gyrgan reached to stroke his chin while he recalled the events he witnessed. “I passed by this nice looking home and the master of the house was outside complaining to the guards about how their servant disappeared in the dead of the night.”

“Was there robbery involved?” Zarkon frowned and he lowered his goblet beside his empty plate.

“I can’t say.” Gyrgan replied. “Nothing appeared to be missing when I observed, but by willow, the man was really angry that the servant disappeared.”

“I don’t see the problem here, Gyrgan.” Zarkon said and by the stars in the nebula, he really did look confused. “The man could just get a new servant. The third caste is plentiful, I’m sure he’ll find a replacement in no time.”

Marmora had to take a few breaths and numb himself towards the cold words but in reality, that was how servants were seen: as household objects, as property. A servant is considered fortunate if they are employed by a kind household but there are those like the young girl he and Azrael rescued last night that deserved better. The poor girl had bruises on her arms and the tips of her fingers were raw from excessive housework.

“That’s a rough way to put it, my friend.” Blaytz’s playful tone broke through the awkward silence. “A life can’t be replaced, after all.”

“Indeed.” Zarkon agreed. “What I’m talking about is in terms of employment, that’s what’s replaceable. The third class exists for labor and they are plentiful so it shouldn’t be a problem to look for a new servant to replace the old.” He paused and turned to Gyrgan. “Er, where did you find this household?”

“Somewhere in the upper district of your city.” Gyrgan replied in between bites of the fruit slices he was chewing on heartily. “It was a beautiful dwelling made out of black glass and polished wood.”

“Ah, probably, a merchant lives there.” The emperor shrugged and Marmora clenched his fingers from the loose clasp they were in. Of course, the emperor wouldn’t understand the woes of the servant caste because he didn’t feel their pain due to his royal privilege. However, Marmora snapped out of his turmoil when he heard someone clear his throat.

“Excuse me,” When he lifted his gaze and they locked with dark cobalt ones, Marmora felt his cheeks burn when he was greeted by Blaytz’s smile. He lifted an empty goblet. “Could you please pour me some more?”

With a polite nod, Marmora took the pitcher from the silver tray set on a stool tray beside him and made his way towards the table. The conversation continued among the paladins but Blaytz didn’t appear interested in it.

“If I may, sir?” Marmora asked politely as he held out his hand for the goblet so that he can pour the beverage in. Their fingers brushed when the goblet has handed over and the sensation tingled; Blaytz’s hands were rough from using the sword and so were Marmora’s.

“It’s good stuff.” Blaytz started the conversation smoothly but his eyes told a different story that he knew Marmora’s secret. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Yes, I did.” Was the other’s polite reply. “Freshly squeezed desert lemons and _bouyog_ honey.”

“I don’t know what that is but I bet everything you make is good.” A wink.

Marmora smiled humbly and fought not to let the smile be any wider than what is considered acceptable for a servant. “Thank you. Your words honor me.”

“There’s more where that came from, if you’d like.”

“Blaytz, for Daibazaal’s sake, what did I just say yesterday?” Zarkon sighed.

“Aw, come on, what’s the harm in trying to make a friend?” Blaytz whined. “Isn’t that right?” Marmora felt his face flush when he felt all eyes in the room turn to him. He wanted to groan; he was well trained in social gatherings such as this but Blaytz was messing with his thoughts. It was a blessing when Gyrgan chimed in and saved Marmora from having to come up with a doubled edged answer; he either agreed with his emperor or his determined ‘friend’, if Blaytz was even that.

“Ah, Zarkon, by willow, you’re a stiff one!” Gyrgan chuckled heartily and patted the emperor on the back hard, which make Zarkon almost spit out the beverage he was drinking. “How are you going to find a lovely lady if you’re like that, huh?”

“I don’t think of such things. Being emperor already occupies my time and I’m even busier with our collective efforts of keeping our system safe.”

“Ah, if Alfor was here, he’d contradict that!” was Gyrgan’s reply followed by booming laughter. “I swear, he was just as stiff as you until he met the lovely princess who is now his queen.”

While the guests and the emperor were occupied with their laughter as they blatantly teased Zarkon, Marmora took it as the opportunity to leave. He backed out quietly with the pitcher in hand and in a moment’s tick, he was gone like a ghost.

~

Marmora avoided the main halls all day so that he didn’t have to make unnecessary conversations with the guests especially with Blaytz after the encounter the night before. Now, Marmora laid awake in his cot and stared at the plaster ceiling. The other servants had already gone to bed vargas ago in preparation for their early awakening but Marmora couldn’t sleep. His mind itched for words to soar through worlds straight out of the pages of an old bound book. He wanted to skim through pictures on the computer archives stored in the palace library. Giving in, he sat up and got dressed. Maybe if he made himself look presentable, he would appear like he’s doing a late shift rather than snooping like a thief.

Servants were not encouraged to read, after all. Their minds are trained to be chained to their duties rather than soaring infinitely with ideas in the skies. But that was the old Galra way and Marmora was dedicated to change that; every third class child had the right to learn what the higher class children did. Their minds deserved to play in fairytale worlds and create worlds of their own. They had the right to learn how to read and write and to invent what they pleased. They are the hope of the future after all and that was worth protecting. Marmora had always said to himself that when the resistance successfully gets their voices heard and the caste is taken down, he will leave the palace and become a mentor. It was his passion and it burned deep within. 

“Knowledge or death.” Marmora muttered to himself while he glanced at the small mirror that hung by the door. He went to his desk to grab his pocket computer where he stored his notes. It was the fastest way to record information but when he got back home, Marmora always wrote what he collected in an old notebook just in case his file got corrupted.

Finally, after pressing his ear against the doors to make sure that Azrael and Clyus were asleep in their rooms, Marmora slipped out into the night.

The guard was easy to bypass in the main hall, Marmora knew him to be a lazy one who always dozed off during his night rounds. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t been caught sleeping on the job yet. Marmora pushed one of the great polished black doors on the great library and slipped inside. He felt overwhelmed once ancient books and records on the numerous ceiling-to-floor shelves surrounded him. There were seven floors of shelves and each floor was equipped with computer units to access the electronic archives. Marmora felt his heart flutter; this single hall contained countless stories and philosophies of Daibazaal as well as other planets.

Marmora didn’t waste any more time because he rushed to the second floor where he left off from the last time. He picked a writing desk in the farthest corner and turned on the tiny crystal reading light. He placed down his pocket computer and flipped it open. He went to the shelf he was browsing the last time he was here and the tips of his fingers brushed over the bound spines of the books before he pulled out one that he would read for the night.

The letters on the title were scribbles to Marmora but they were letters that he recognized as Altean so he went back his desk and opened the book on the title page. Then, he pushed up his sleeve for the thin metal band around his wrist that was remotely connected to his computer and scanned the letters.

Fen’eris Nalquodia dris et Sendiz

_Travels to Nalquod by Sendiz_

“Oh.” Marmora breathed. Sendiz was a renowned Altean explorer from several generations ago. According to the elegant Altean letters scribbled on the back of the front page, this book was a personal gift to the emperor ruling during that time. This would be interesting; maybe Marmora can learn a thing or two about Blaytz’s way of life. “This is about Blaytz’s home.”

Marmora scanned each page and read the translation that appeared on the projected holographic screen of his computer.

“Nalquod is a planet with more water than land.” Marmora read lowly to himself, each word a whisper only he could hear. “However, the semi-aquatic vegetation that grows on the soiled areas are dense bogs. The Nalquodians build their villages on the edges of great bodies of water where they can easily access its abundant resources.”

Marmora continued to scan and read. His fingers typed the text he highlighted from the second screen and he was so invested in the book that he didn’t notice that the door opened and closed quietly.

“The inhabitants of Nalquod are gallant warriors,” Marmora continued to whisper the translated on the screen. “They fight to the death to protect their people, their families, and those they consider as their significant others. Although they are known to be warm and hospitable towards visitors as I have been treated since my arrival, they will not hesitate to go to war as proven by their generational war with the Galra and the current emperor of Daibazaal.”

Marmora paused there; the Galra and the Nalquodians had been warring for generations but he never realized that the war had been going even before his great, great grandmother was born. It had recently ended with the established alliance between the planets’ current leaders;

Emperor Zarkon of Daibazaal and Blaytz of Nalquod.

“Interesting.” Marmora took a moment to breathe deeply and absorbed what he had just read. He eagerly flipped to the next page and found that the he had already reached the next chapter. Marmora checked the time and saw that it was midnight so he decided that this would be the last one for the night because he had to get back and sleep for the morning chores. He scanned the page;

The Nalquodian Way of Life.

When Marmora looked at the screen, he frowned when he saw that there was one word that appeared different from the Altean that the book was written in. “Vethgrth.” he tried to say the strange Nalquodian word. “I wonder what it means?”

“I can tell you for a price.”

Startled, Marmora jumped to his feet and reached for the handle of his blade. Blaytz was leaning on one of the shelves but when he saw that Marmora was about to draw out his luxite blade, he instantly raised both hands in surrender.

“Whoah, whoah!” Blaytz’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t want to get blood on the floor. It’s wood so it’s going to be a bitch to clean.”

Marmora gaped at him in utter disbelief. “What would you know about cleaning?”

“Lucky guess?” Blaytz shrugged with a goofy smile. “Besides, if you kill me, you’ll get caught then get executed and then the war will restart.”

Marmora narrowed his eyes at Blaytz. He didn’t appreciate being watched like that and being interrupted when he was reading. “I’m good at cleaning. I can dispose your body and without a drop of evidence!”

Blaytz sucked in a breath of amazement and his eyes widened before his smile turned smug. “Ohh, what happened to the sweet smile from this morning, hm?”

“I’m upset that you interrupted my reading.”

“You’re not even supposed to be here, _arve’rth._ ”

Marmora kept his mouth shut but he let go of the knife handle hidden behind him. “What was that towards the end?”

“I can tell you, yet again, for a price.” Blaytz lowered his hands to his side, the decorative rings on his fingers catching the light. Marmora fearlessly held his ground even as Blaytz walked towards him but instead of standing near him, he grabbed the chair from another writing desk, flipped in around, and straddled it. He braced his forearms on the top of the backrest, crossed underneath his chiseled jaw and Marmora couldn’t help but admire the hard lines on his handsome features.

“That depends if the risks of your price outweighs my gain.” Marmora replied. “What is your price, sir?”

“Your name.”

“Pardon me?” Marmora blinked. “Did you just ask for my name?”

“You heard me right.” Blaytz grinned lazily but his eyes locked with Marmora’s with interest. “You obviously know who I am. You’ve poured my drinks and smiled at me. We’ve crossed blades and I even scarred your pretty face but I don’t even know what to call you.” He paused and regret crossed the cheer in his eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry that I hurt you last night, by the way. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it, sir.” Slowly, he placed his palm over his chest and dipped his head in a slight bow. “I am called Marmora.”

“Marmora.” Blaytz’s tone softened as he said his name for the first time and Marmora felt like his ribs were about to break from the way his heart was hammering against them. “I like it. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Taking a seat on his own chair, Marmora swiped a bit around the screen but he did not let his guard down. Then, he glanced at Blaytz. “Will you keep your end of the deal?”

“Of course,” the other replied. “I’m a man of my word. Vethgrth means ‘courtship’ in my native language.” He smiled and it was a playful one but his eyes glinted with a light of what Marmora recognized as sincerity. “Would you care for a _demonstration_ as well?”

Color bloomed on Marmora’s cheeks and his face burst with heat. “No, thank you. As my emperor told you---“

“Psh,” Blaytz rolled his eyes. “Zarkon’s always got his mace stuck up his ass. I’m not Galra and I do not believe in castes. Everyone is born underneath the same star and has the same heart that beats and capable of love. So what makes Zarkon any more special than you, Marmora?”

“I…” Marmora was left speechless. He had completely underestimated Blaytz as a shallow fellow but the flow of wisdom that he just displayed took the words right out of Marmora’s mouth. “You’re right.” And he just laughed softly. “You’re interesting, Blaytz.”

“As are you.” Blaytz flashed him a smile. Then, he motioned at the computer that Marmora had with him. “So, are you doing research?”

“In a sense.” Marmora replied and he went back to reading the translated text and typing. “I’m gathering important points from this old Altean book about your planet and translating it. I hope to pass down what I learn.”

“A passion for teaching?” Asked Blaytz.

“Yes.” Marmora’s tone softened. “I would like to be a mentor someday.”

Oddly, the silence that befell them was comfortable; Marmora continued to read while he mouthed the words to himself and Blaytz watched. When Marmora stumbled upon words that didn’t translate on the scanner, he asked Blaytz and the other happily complied.

“You know, that thing’s pretty outdated.” Blaytz later said. He had dragged his chair from where he was earlier and had settled beside Marmora. “Why not just ask me?”

Marmora carefully put down the antique book and looked at Blaytz. “You’re a sly one.”

“Do you think so?” Blaytz laughed and it was so contagious that Marmora found himself chuckling as well. “Maybe I just want to talk to you. I couldn’t find you all day.”

“I was busy.” Marmora wanted to curse his face; he just couldn’t hide the redness that bloomed. It was not acceptable for a house servant at all but then he thought that he was more than that. Maybe, he was allowed to blush too. He was allowed to smirk, and play, and flirt, and learn. He was allowed to be who and what he wanted to be.

“But very well.” Marmora shifted in his seat and abandoned his computer. He held the antique book carefully in his hands before he started to flip through the pages. “I’d love to know more about you.”

Blaytz smirked. “Only if you’d tell me about you. It’s fair trade.”

“Truly, a sly one.”

The night grew older until the sky was at its darkest and the stars in their brightest. For every question Marmora asked, Blaytz had an answer and an accompanying story, and vice versa. They shared quiet laughter when the tales became hilarious adventures and kitchen incidents. They learned new things about each other and came to understand the interesting differences in their cultures.

Suddenly, a soft beeping interrupted their merry conversation and Marmora’s smile fell when he glanced at the time that flashed on his holographic screen. “Blaytz, I need to head home.”

“Oh.” The twin red feelers on Blaytz’s brows as well as his ear fins drooped to reflect the disappointment he felt. “Already? But we’re just getting to the good parts!”

“Maybe you can tell me more about it tomorrow night?” Marmora offered but his voice was filled with hope that twinkled in his maroon eyes when he looked at Blaytz. “We can meet again and you can tell me more about your planet and your adventures.” He paused to think. “Same time tomorrow night?”

The cheerful air Blaytz had disappeared and he got up from the chair to stretch, yet, he did not smile.

“I can’t.” he sighed and Marmora felt his chest clench in secret and his own smile disappeared.

“How come?”

“I’m set to return to Nalquod before sunrise; one of my generals contacted me and I’m needed back home. Alfor is set to arrive within the day tomorrow so Zarkon won’t exactly be undermanned incase that mysterious fissure proved to be dangerous.”

“Ah.”

There was a pregnant silence that seem to make them drift away like a shipwreck swallowed by the waves. Marmora tried to distract himself by fixing his things and he returned the book back on the shelf. “I must say.” He said after a while. “I wish that we had more time together. You’re wonderful company, Blaytz.”

Marmora bit his lower lip to stifle a chuckle when he saw the way Blaytz’s feelers and ear fins perk up. The familiar goofy smile returned and suddenly, it was the same Blaytz Marmora had come to know.

“I think you should go and get some rest, sir.” Marmora said after he finished gathering his things. “You have a long journey ahead of you.”

“Sleep can wait, I can nap in the ship.” Blaytz offered a hand and the gold rings around his fingers glinted in invitation. “What kind of man would I be if I can’t even offer to walk you home, _arve’rth_.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

Marmora tilted his head to the side and a look of confusion danced on his features, intelligence in his eyes. “That: arve’rth. What does it mean? Is it Nalquodian?”

“Uh, yeah.” Blaytz suddenly turned away and avoided eye contact. “Well, like I said, I can tell you for a price.”

“Like my birthday or something?” Marmora asked as he arched an eyebrow. “My age? My favorite food? Do you need me to translate something to you in Old Galran? A packed meal for your journey? Steal some wine from the cellar?”

Blaytz laughed nervously but it only spurred on Marmora’s curiosity when he saw that the red feelers started to glow in the same color and the tips of Blaytz’s ear fins turned pink at the tips.

“The price is something you can’t afford yet.” He flicked his gaze up but found that he could not hold Marmora’s gaze. “Besides, you’ve learned enough for tonight.”

“Now, you’re just intriguing me. One can never have enough knowledge.” Marmora said as a matter of fact. “Learning is a constant thing. What we know today might be useless tomorrow.”

Blaytz laughed gleefully and reached to wipe the subtle tears on the corners of his eyes. “Your mind is a blaze, Marmora. You’re like sunlight through the dark waves, I must say!”

This time, it was Marmora whose face bloomed with color. He found it quite poetic and oddly beautiful in a cheerful way. He smiled and Blaytz smiled back. The two of them stood there in silence holding each other’s gazes until Blaytz snickered and Marmora bit his lower lip to hide a smile.

“Come on,” Blaytz offered his hand once again. “I’ll walk you home.”

Marmora slowly reached out with his free hand while the other clutched his pocket computer to his chest. When his hand slipped onto Blaytz’s, the other hooked it though his arm. They made their way through the empty halls and quietly passed sleeping guards. The air was bitter and cold when they stepped outside in the spacious courtyard that was the partition between the palace and the servant barracks outside the high spired walls.

“This is that farthest that we can go without being seen.” Marmora slipped his hand from the strong bend of Blaytz’s arm. “Thank you and ‘til we meet again. I wish you a safe journey.”

“Hey, no problem. I’m just glad I found out your name.” Blaytz grinned. “How about I bring you back something sparkly, hm? Would you like that?”

But Marmora merely shook his head. “Please, you don’t have to spend anything for me. Besides, I’m not much for trinkets; they get lost or stolen or I might even be accused of theft. Your company and your stories are enough.”

“Then, I’ll make sure to bring you stories upon my return.”

With a final silent smile, Marmora bid Blaytz good bye and disappeared in the shadow of the bushes and vines of the surrounding trees.

But unbeknownst to the both of them, Azrael watched them from the shadow of a roof spire and she giggled gleefully to herself behind her mask. “Oh, brother~”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://plumeriafairy14.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/lightoflunaris) Come say hi! :D


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